


Romance, the Anders Way

by Nievia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Ficlets, Fluff, Handers Week, Romance, anders is happy, anders is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4425647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nievia/pseuds/Nievia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is for Handers Week, its basically just going to be a fic a day through July 31 about anything and everything involving Anders and Hawke and their misadventures together! Some of it will be angst, some of it will be romance, sometimes it will be male Hawke, sometimes female Hawke. This doesn't have a plot, it's just something I'm doing for fun! Enjoy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the prompt: It was an awful prank.  
> M!Hawke x Anders

The Storm Coast was - as always - raining and cold and miserable. Isabela had given up on fixing her hair and instead teased Fenris about being "hot and wet and completely delectable", to which he responded with slight smirks or a roll of his eyes. Anders seemed particularly peeved about his feathered pauldrons being soaked through (as the feathers were falling off at a rapid rate due to the added weight). Hawke was front and center and seemed to be the only one enjoying (as much as he could enjoy) himself, despite not really knowing what they were supposed to be doing in the first place. He ran a hand through his mop of black hair, tugging the wet tangles out with his fingers, "What was it you needed out here, Anders?" He asked, turning to glance at the handsome mage. 

Anders seemed to brighten, his hazel eyes sparkling uncharacteristically, "Oh, I just needed something from the top of the mountain. It's a ahh... a flower for a new potion I'm making." Hawke raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend. Since he had moved into the estate with Hawke, he had never looked quite so... mischievous.

"Flowers, huh?"

Anders beamed, a droplet of water dripping over the curve of his lips (which thoroughly distracted Hawke, much to Anders liking), "What's wrong with flowers?" 

Hawke laughed, "It's not the flowers I'm worried about."

Fenris harrumphed, "Can we just move on? Flowers or not, it's raining and I have business to attend to other than running errands for the abomination." 

Anders scoffed, "Going to hunt down some apostates or go brood in your big mansion?" 

"I do not hunt mages, nor do I brood!" Fenris brooded. 

Hawke waved his hand, "Alright, alright, we get it, you hate each other. But we're here so, Anders, go find whatever flower you wanted. I'm going to look around."

Anders kept an eye on Hawke as he clipped off the bulbs of flowers that had yet to bloom (he already had a good stock of them back at the clinic). Now if Hawke would just... Now was Anders’ chance. He stood up and strode over, placing his hand on Hawke's armored shoulder. "Isn't it beautiful up here?" 

He scoffed, "You really brought us all the way up here just to ask how I liked the view?" 

Grinning, Anders leaned over the edge of the cliff, making sure he was in the right place.

"Careful, don't want you to fall."

Anders waved his hand, "Nonsense, I'll be - ah!" He tottered forward with a yell.

Hawke reached out to catch the edge of Anders' robes, but missed by a mere second and watched as the man he loved toppled off the edge of the mountain.. "Anders!" He shouted, having half a mind to jump down after him. 

And then he heard the laughter.

Horror crossed his face - which had paled considerably when Anders fell off the edge of the cliff - but was soon replaced by anger. Hawke's cheeks turned red as he looked down at his boyfriend. 

But that only seemed to make Anders laugh harder, "The look on y-your face!" 

Hawke gritted his teeth and held out a hand to help him off of the small outcrop in the mountain, arm bulging as he yanked Anders up to him and into a deep kiss. 

The mage laughed against Hawke's lips, "I should scare you more often if this is what I get." He whispered, voice soft and husky.

The warrior's eyes were dark, "Not unless I tell you no sex for a week."

Needless to say, Hawke was very satisfied by the look on Anders' face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: You knew how it would end  
> Enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Anders always knew it would be like this, but that didn’t help him deal with the disappointment and confusion in Hawke’s eyes. He turned to Anders, who sat on a crate, Vengeance finally calmed by the heat coming from the burning Chantry.

“You... you did this?” Hawke asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

Anders folded his hands in his lap, “This was the only way, and you know it.”

Hawke glanced over his shoulder at his friends, who all seemed to be avoiding eye contact. His eyes shimmered. “So that’s why you asked me to distract...” he trailed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Is this what you’ve been doing? Is this why you’ve been staying at the clinic so late? Maker, Anders! You should have told me, I could have-”

“You would have tried to stop me. Don’t you see? This is what the mages need! A spark to push us in the right direction.”

“This is hardly a spark, Anders.” Hawke said, voice low. “Do you know how many people were in there?”

Anders closed his eyes, “They’re a means to an end, a necessary end.”

Taking a step back, Hawke shook his head, “So all that time, even when we first met, you knew that this was what would happen?”

“I told you when we first met - I warned you - but you didn’t listen. Hawke, I never intended to hurt you. I lo-”

He held up his hand, “Don’t.”

Anders swallowed and bowed his head, “Do what you will with me, Hawke. I won’t blame you.”

Footsteps sounded in his ears, and Hawke’s boots came in front of his eyes. He squeezed them shut, closing himself into darkness as he heard the sound of a blade being drawn. Maker preserve me. He could feel the knife raised over him, sense Hawke’s shaking hands - hands that once held his cheek as they kissed, hands that he had once held, hands that guided him.

The knife sank into the wood beside his leg. Anders let out a whoosh of air he had been holding in his lungs unconsciously. It was still for a few moments, the air heavy with silence.

“Look at me, Anders.” Hawke whispered.

Slowly, Anders lifted his head up, hazel eyes met Hawke’s striking blue ones.

“I’m letting you live, but you’re helping us fix this.”

He swallowed thickly, “And after that?”

“I would suggest running,”

“And what will you do?” He asked, half-hoping that Hawke would tell him he would stay.

Hawke shrugged, “Run the other way,”

Anders always knew this is how it would end, he didn’t know why he tried to ever think any different.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's day 3 (though I cheated a bit as it is technically day 4, but I got id done, didn't I?)  
> Enjoy and thanks for reading, loves!

Hawke had always been fascinated with healing magic, but never had the patience to learn it himself. So it wasn't a wonder that Anders absolutely mystified him. How he managed to be so gentle (fingertips glowing a soft blue ghosting over Hawke's skin) and yet firm (holding Hawke in place when he had to do something particularly painful) amazed him.

"Keep still, Hawke, or you'll never heal properly." Anders scolded, his hands stilling Hawke's constant wriggling.

But Garrett couldn't help it; the careful dance of Anders' calloused fingers on his bruised ribs tickled, and he had to substitute squirming for laughing, as it hurt far too much to laugh a proper Hawke laugh (uproarious and joyful and a bit on the crazy side)

Of course Anders couldn't show Hawke the amusement in his eyes; that would just make it worse.So he put on his "serious Anders" face and continued on. He had always enjoyed healing Hawke, especially because of the "accidental" tickling. Hawke was a bear of a man (hair included) and didn't much like being teased, but of course that only made it all the more fun. Not to mention, Hawke's laugh was nice (rich and full and kind, if a bit loud).

But by far the best part about healing Hawke were the kisses he received. His eyes would burn into Anders' and he would catch the mages's hand (still glowing blue) and press his mouth against each pale knuckle, taking his time, and then turning it over to press an open-mouthed kiss to his palm. Other times Hawke would simply grin (that's how Anders knew he was in trouble), his lips bruised from Maker knows what, and tug Anders against him by his robes, lips gentle, stubble rubbing against Anders' cheek.

Hawke squirmed once more, catching the flash in Anders' eyes and beaming up at him. "Something catch your fancy, Anders?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know this is a day late (i tried posting it last night but my computer was being finicky)  
> But anyways, here's day 4 of 7!  
> Enjoy and thanks for reading!

The fight with the Arishok was intense, to say the least, but Anders found himself confident in Hawke’s abilities on the battlefield. Her movements were swift, and she dodged the first few swings of the qunari’s weapons without much issue, even landing a few scarce stabs and slices of her own (though that didn’t seem to do much but make him angry).

She was doing well against the man, though Anders noticed that her steps came slower, her blades slightly more sluggish in their strikes than before, and blood was now dripping down her side and soaking through her armor. But she stayed concentrated, parrying and side-stepping despite her wounds. Anders found himself clenching his fists in order to remain inactive, had to fight the inner battle between himself and Justice over how fair this fight was. His fingernails dug into skin, cutting through flesh and healing immediately with the overflow of magic.

The Arishok seemed to be slowing down as well. His strikes clumsier, his steps unsure after charging the rogue so many times. Anders smirked. Marian had him right where she needed him to be. Or so the mage thought. Within seconds of Anders’ assurance, Hawke was raised off of the ground (now soiled with blood from the Viscount, Hawke, and the Arishok himself) by the qunari’s sword. She cried out, her voice shrill in a way Anders had never heard before. The healer took a step forward, about to raise a hand to cast a healing spell, his eyes starting to turn a deadly glowing blue, but was quickly yanked back into place. He didn’t look to see who it was, too busy watching his lover struggle against the sword’s biting edge, her blood spilling down the hilt of the sword and onto the Arishok’s hand.

“All things come to an end, Hawke.” The Arishok rumbled, his voice deep as it reverberated around the chamber.

Hawke spluttered as she was tossed off of the blade and onto the ground. Anders was surprised to find that she was laughing, blood spraying out of her mouth in droplets as the qunari approached her. She grinned up at him, teeth stained red, and reached up and swiped a line of her own blood across her nose. “Then tell me,” she wheezed, “How does it feel?” Then she was on him, her blades stabbed into his chest to the hilt, their blood mixing as his eyes widened in shock and his weapons clanged onto the floor.

Anders cheered, grin wide as he moved in to hug her, “Hawke, you did -”

But he was cut off as she fell onto the stone next to the dead Arishok.

“Hawke!”

His magic bolted out in front of him, waves of blue crashing over and around her. He fell on his knees and pressed his hands into her still-bleeding middle. He couldn’t feel her breathing. He shifted his hands onto her chest. He couldn’t feel her heartbeat. “Not now, Marian.” He breathed, barely a whisper. “For Maker’s sake, not now!” He yelled, and for a moment, blue light overcame the room, blinding everyone watching and consuming the people at its center.

And then a miracle happen (if one believes in such things). Hawke gasped as if she had been drowned, hands scrabbling against hard stone. “Anders,” she mumbled, seeing his eyes glowing blue as she reached up and touched his cheek. “Anders, I’m okay."

The mage came back to himself, Justice dissipating as Anders caught Hawke’s mouth in a searing kiss, crushing her against him at awkward angles that made her bones ache. But she didn’t mind. The Arishok was dead, she was safe, and she was tucked against her lover’s chest.

But her stomach did still hurt like hell.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves! Seems I'm on time today.  
> Anyways, here's day 5 of 7 of Handers Week!  
> Enjoy and thanks so much for reading

"Take the damn food,"

"I'm fine, Hawke."

"Anders."

"I said I'm f - mmff!" The mage was cut off as a biscuit was shoved into his mouth. He glared at the woman as he chewed and swallowed the dry food quickly. "Satisfied?"

Hawke grinned, "For now, yes." And then - as if she hadn't just manhandled him - she practically skipped out of his clinic, dirt scuffing up around her boots.

***

The next morning, while Anders was making potions for the day ahead of him and the first patients began to trickle in, she came back. Nodding at a sickly man and a bruised child, she picked her way to the healer and promptly sat herself on his workbench. She smiled at him and placed a basket right in front of him (and right on the herbs he had just laid out).

"Morning, Anders." She hummed.

He blinked at her, the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent than the day before. "What's this?"

Hawke shrugged, blue eyes dazzling in the dreary light of the Darktown morning. "Well, since you're obviously so inept at taking care of yourself -"

"I am not."

"-I made you a little care package." She beamed.

He placed his hands on his hips, "I'm perfectly capable on my own,"

Crossing her arms and cocking her head, Hawke blinked up at him, "So is that why you sleep in uncomfortable - and sometimes even bloody - cots and give all of your food to stray cats?"

Anders groaned, rubbing his temples, "I appreciate the gesture but-"

Hawke leaned over on her hands, bringing her face close to his. He swallowed, eyes flicking down to her lips, then to her eyes, then back again. Maker, she had never been so close before. A few more inches and they could be kissing.

"Take the basket and I'll stop bothering you about it."

He blinked as she returned to her earlier position, and found that it was hard to breath with his heart pounding in his throat. "Do you promise?"

She only shrugged, making an x over her chest.

"Alright, then. Thank you, Hawke."

With a grin, she hopped off of his workbench and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "You're welcome," she whispered, and then she gone, the only evidence of her having been there being a basket and a very flustered healer.

Bonus ending:

Shaking the blush from his cheeks, Anders lifted the cloth covering his care package to find, asleep among various foods (all wrapped carefully to avoid harm), a skin of water, and even of what looked to be a bottle of wine, was a small, tabby cat. With a grin, he lifted the warm animal into his arms and whispered, "Well hello there, Ser-Pounce-A-Lot Junior."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Day 6 of 7 for Handers week.  
> I had a lot of trouble writing this today, but I hope you like it nevertheless (I know its really short)  
> Enjoy, and thanks so so much for reading!

Pushing her fingers through Anders’ soft hair, Hawke realized just how much she missed this, being so close to someone. She had had relationships before, sure, but everything just came so easy with him. Of course, when she first met him, she felt like a teenager again, her face alight with heat, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip and her stomach turning over on itself. But once they go past that, once they broke the ice, it became simple. She would visit the clinic everyday to help heal the sick and he would come on missions with her if she asked (which tended to be more often than not).

He shifted, pressing further into the warmth of Hawke’s body, one hand twitching on her stomach while the other was tucked under his head. It happened less and less these days, him joining her in bed. Often in the dull light of the morning, she would find him asleep in the study, his cheek smeared with ink from his manifesto and his neck at an uncomfortable angle. Or, on nights he did happen to come to bed, she would wake up to find his side of the bed cold and a note on her desk explaining that he had “important business” at the clinic or wherever he happened to be going that day.

Hawke closed her eyes, savoring the feel of her lover’s hair slipping through her pale fingers, the rise and fall of his chest, the caress of a shifting hand over her belly. She pressed a kiss onto his cheek and prayed that he would still be there, warm and soft and groggy, when she woke up with the sun in her eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 of 7 of Handers Week!  
> Enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

When Anders took on Hawke as an apprentice, he hadn’t expected someone so proficient at magic would be so absolutely wretched at healing. Hawke was, if anything, eager to learn. His blue eyes glittered with excitement upon arrival, his grin contagious as he kissed Anders in greeting. “Alright then, what’s first?”

Anders led him through the clinic, showing him where he stowed most of his potions and alchemical reagents (though he avoided his stash of snacks, as Hawke tended to be a little overzealous when it came to food). And then their first patient came in, his narrow face illuminated by the flimsy light of the lantern lit outside of the clinic’s doors. He was a fairly young boy, probably not much older than thirteen, and, due to how simple his wounds were, seemed to be the perfect person for Hawke to start with.

The boy had a few scrapes and bruises, but one cut on his stomach seemed to be particularly deep (something Anders would have to take care of himself). Hawke watched as Anders waved glowing blue hands over the wound in the boys stomach, explaining the spells he used, the techniques he had learned throughout the ages. “Try to think of something pleasant, that’s always worked for me. 

Garrett seemed to do everything right, his focus was intent on a scrape on the boys upper arm, his hands hovered close to the boy’s skin but never touched, but somehow things went wrong. Anders ended up having to unfreeze the poor child’s entire arm as Hawke apologized profusely and scrambled around the clinic searching for a potion that might be of use.

“It’s okay,” Anders said, a bemused look on his face, “It just takes practice, is all.”

Apparently no amount of practice could help Garrett Hawke. Instead of mending wounds, stitching skin together with a flow of energy, he ended up unintentionally burning, freezing, or spiritually harming his patients. By the end of the day, when the lantern was put out by a wave of Anders’ hand and the clinic put in some semblance of tidiness, Anders looked more tired than he had ever been before. His eyes were sunken in, his shoulders droopy, and his hair askew.

“So… can I come back tomorrow?” Hawke asked.

Anders sighed, “Only if you promise not to help anyone.”

Hawke laughed, sliding his arms around Anders’ waist, “Better at killing people than saving them, I suppose.”

“Yeah, you should probably leave the healing to me. In fact, you should probably avoid healing people.”

Hawke laughed and kissed the corner of Anders’ mouth, “Whatever you say, doctor.”


End file.
